The Innerling

Celebrating International Women's Day with a story of remembering our inner power.

The Innerling is a short story in the dark fantasy genre that I first wrote in 2021. I’ve revised it for this post. It felt fitting to share this story for IWD because it’s a story of a woman remembering her inner power. We can’t work our light if we ignore our darkness.

(Important Note: This story touches on themes of grief, loss, and suicide)

Thank you, 💖 Claire Venus ✨ , Lauren Barber, Laura Durban, Georgia, Laurita Gorman & Lyndsay Kaldor for welcoming us into this vision!

This post is inspired by the traditional Scottish act of Waulking (Scottish Gaelic: luadh) - women weaving, finishing tweed cloth in community together while singing. This story is my contribution.

Thank you to the other women who have changed my life by being part of it: Erica Phillips Graves 🔮, Willow | Interviewing Angels, Caitlin-The Hag Under the Wood, Julie Schmidt, Jenna Newell Hiott, Goddess Renell, and many others!

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The Innerling

By Alysia Moonrise

Em’s life had crumbled. She couldn’t bring herself back to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Freedom was gone. Too many were sick from war-poisoned air, and she’d lost count of the lives that had been lost at the hands of the Regime.

She welcomed the cool blade against her skin. In the darkness of her home, listening to yet another raid in the next town over, Em was ready to give up.

Sitting on the floor of her bedroom with the knife resting gently in her hands, she was deep in a meditation of sorts. She ran the blunt side of the blade over her skin in slow, repetitive motions.

It calmed her.

She let out a soft, broken sound—half sob, half relieved huff—and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, her hands were shaking so badly she had to press them together in her lap.

Peace.

The word repeated in her mind as she turned the knife around and pressed the sharpened side into her wrist. She took a deep breath, gliding the blade over her skin, surrendering to the sweetness of the quiet beyond.

A soft light flickered in the corner of her room, catching her attention.

The air pulsed as if it were breathing itself to life. The dim glow of light shimmered at its center, gently growing in a rhythm to her own heartbeat.

Em leaned forward, releasing the knife, and reached toward the flickering air. When her finger touched the light, she felt a small prick of electricity. The light expanded into a threshold, and she stumbled backward.

Outside, the screams grew louder. She knew the raiders were taking the children away. Cleansing the world, the Regime called it.

But even this couldn’t pull Em away from the doorway of pulsing light in front of her. It reflected off the knife she’d left on the ground. Em lunged for the blade, fear overwhelming her, but she wasn’t fast enough. A boot kicked it across the room before she reached it.

Em looked up, gasping. An arched doorway opened to another world, and a woman with black hair, gleaming dark eyes, and an ink-sleeved arm had stepped through, now standing before Em.

“Get up.”

The woman’s voice was familiar, but harsh. She spoke in Em’s voice, bore Em’s face and hair, even identical tattoos, yet she wasn’t Em. She wore a sleeveless tunic, piercings studding her face.

The woman kicked Em’s boot with her own. “I said, get up. We don’t have all night.”

Em knelt, trembling from the inside out. She hauled herself upright. The blood from her wrist slid down in warm streaks, dripping freely onto the wooden floor.

The woman’s eyes followed the soft red splatters. A low, impatient sound escaped her throat. She pressed her palm flat against the gash. Em winced. A soft light flowed from the woman’s hand, and Em’s arm was healed.

“Who are you?” Em asked.

Without answering, the mysterious woman turned and passed through the arched doorway. She turned and stared at Em with those dark, unreadable eyes and offered her hand without speaking.

Em glanced over her shoulder at her unbearably small room. The sounds outside attempted to reach her, but they felt much more distant now. She turned back to the woman, took her hand, and passed through the door.

The air thickened as she stepped through. On the far side, her boot came down on moss that pulsed faintly underfoot, warm and wet. Colors she had no names for bled across the sky, and a low, thrumming note vibrated up through her bones. Em’s breath snagged.

She found herself standing in a deep jungle, the trees and lush plants looming overhead like watchful elders. The air was alive with smoke and the heavy perfume of herbs.

“Exhale,” the woman said. Her gaze settled on Em, level and unmoving. “You’re a warrior here.”

The remark hit Em like a stone dropped into still water. “I don’t understand. Where are we?”

The woman didn’t reply but stepped into the heavily shrouded jungle of leaves and out of sight. In the distance, the sound of drums echoed. It was all Em could do not to fall behind completely. Thorns tore at her sleeves; her boots sank into mud, yet the woman navigated the jungle as if born to it.

“Wait,” Em called, trailing behind once more. She bolted forward, boots slipping on damp leaves. She made it four heartbeats before slamming into the woman. A soft, throaty chuckle rolled out of her as Em staggered back.

The woman led her through the last of the jungle into an opening. Em’s mouth fell open. Countless lights drifted upward, threading through the branches of trees that soared hundreds of feet into the canopy above.

The drumming no longer echoed but reverberated in Em’s chest. Music drifted through the treetop village, soft and constant, threading between the homes cradled in the high branches. Yet it was the spectacle on the ground at Em’s feet that seized her gaze and refused to let go.

A beam of light rose from the earth, reaching into the sky and beyond the stars. It shimmered with a muted glow, too cool to be true yellow, too warm to pass for white—an eminence Em had never seen before. It whispered with a magic that reminded her of the fairy tales her mother told her as a child.

Around its base lay a still pool that mirrored the glow above. Beneath the glassy surface, countless ancient crystals gleamed, as though the light roused them from centuries of sleep.

“What is this place?” Em asked.

“This is the Warrior Village. It’s my home. Or your home. However you choose to look at it.”

Em had a million more questions, but before she could come out of her daze to ask them, the woman took her hand and pulled her toward a stairway.

“This is why I brought you here. Come on.”

She led Em upward, winding along the trunk of an ancient tree on wooden steps that floated free of any visible support, but held in place only by faint, shimmering threads of magic that pulsed like veins beneath the bark.

As they climbed, others in nearby trees noticed them, and the whispers began. Her cheeks flushing, Em kept her head down and tried to ignore them.

When they reached the top, Em couldn’t resist: she leaned forward, hands gripping the thin rail, and looked straight down. The platform tilted beneath her. She stumbled back, pressing herself against the tree.

“This place,” Em stuttered, “it’s magic.” The woman’s dark eyes sparkled against the firelight of the lanterns.

“Of course it is. How else would it be?”

“Where I’m from, there’s no magic,” Em replied.

“I highly doubt that. All worlds have magic.” For a moment, confusion tightened around the woman’s eyes, and she let out a short, quiet huff. She reached for the door’s handle and pulled; the wood parted with a soft creak, spilling warm, amber light from the tree’s hollow interior. The scent of sage and cedar wafted toward Em, calling her to enter.

“This way.” The woman stepped inside the room carved out of the tree’s center.

Em followed, mesmerized.

The round chamber had seven deep basins that lined its curved walls. From each rose a different aroma: bitter myrrh, earthy cedar, faint iron, sweet decay. The fragrances drifted inward in slow spirals, converging on the peculiar statue at the room’s heart, which seemed to swallow the smoke whole.

“What is this place?” Em asked, stepping curiously forward. The statue had the body of a bird and the head of a lion, like a griffin, only opposite. With every cautious step she took, the statue’s eyes tracked her motion. They remained still, frozen in paint and stone, yet the angle of the light and the curve of the lids created the unnerving certainty that she was never out of its sight.

“This is the Light Chamber.” The woman watched Em. A shadow of a smile flickered at the edges of her mouth. “This is where each warrior is given their Innerling.”

Em raised her eyebrow in a silent question, and the woman chuckled.

“An Innerling is necessary for each warrior to stay centered in their power through any challenge. It’s a light-being that lives inside you, within your core.”

In front of the cedar basin, Em stilled, its woody scent calling to her. It was engraved with a symbol—a triangle inside a circle—hand-painted in deep blues and purples that wrapped around each other, creating a peaceful ocean of twilight. As she stood there, taking in the wonderful scent, the smoke shifted its path from the statue, encircling her.

“It looks like you’ve found your match.”

“I don’t understand,” Em said. “I’m not a warrior, and I’m not from this place. A match with what?”

A horn sounded outside and echoed throughout the surrounding trees. The woman’s eyes widened, her face relaxing into a sly grin.

“Let’s speed this along, shall we?”

She took Em’s hand and placed it to rest on the basin right at the center of the triangle. A soft glow embraced her hand, surrounding the entire basin, and a steady rhythm of footsteps rose behind her.

The statue at the room’s heart was no longer stone. Vibrant blue feathers unfurled along its shoulders, a rich golden mane rippling as though stirred by unseen wind.

“Don’t move,” the woman advised, and Em couldn’t have if she wanted to. A wave of rigidity surged from her core outward. The creature seemed to sense this and slowed its approach, stopping to study her for a long moment, gaze warm and deliberate. It reached out a blue-feathered wing, urging Em forward.

“It’s okay,” the woman said. “This is meant for you. You’ll see.”

She stood frozen a moment longer, gaze locked on the creature. Her hand rose, wrist trembling, until her palm met the soft plumage. The knot low in her stomach unraveled thread by thread. Her body surrendered in a single, slow exhale. The creature drew closer, its golden radiance blossoming outward. It flowed into her with each breath, steady and bright, until her heartbeat synced to the quiet pulse of the light itself.

Em could sense the woman on the other side of the light, but she felt more like a memory at the moment—soft and subtle. Em raised her eyes to the lion’s. They seemed to deepen the longer she stared. Em felt the last resistance leave her shoulders. She simply waited, open, for what would follow.

Her body hummed with sudden warmth, a thousand tiny sparks dancing under her skin. The lion opened its mouth wide, and a river of glittering light spilled forth. The glow spread through her ribs, her lungs, her heart, as though something long asleep had just been gently woken.

So many messages passed through Em from this stream. Some in the shape of thoughts, others as images, and even others as feelings. These messages reminded her in that moment that living consumed by fear was no way to live. Her life at home—the state of her world—didn’t have control over her if she stood in her power.

The sacred creature lifted her, cradling Em in its arms as the final rebirth within Em took place. Her breath caught as a translucent orb drifted from the lion’s mouth and hovered above her. She didn’t understand how she knew, but it didn’t matter. This orb was her Innerling, given to her by this beautiful creature of light. And everything was about to change.

Em softened into the connection with her Innerling. She fluttered above Em, revealing her form. Her Innerling was a butterfly, unlike any she’d ever seen. This butterfly radiated a fierce stillness, as though guarding a secret flame. She regarded Em with the calm ferocity of something ancient.

A rich pattern of red and black flowed together on her triangular wings, punctuated by small purple flecks that shimmered with quiet intensity. When her bright blue eyes met Em’s, a gentle stillness poured through her. The gaze was clear, deep, alive with unspoken promise, and Em felt her own heart lift as the butterfly returned to light and absorbed into the center of her chest.

With a deep exhale, Em welcomed the bond to be completed. Gently, the feathered arms of the griffin-like creature placed her back on the ground and helped her stand upright.

Em turned slowly in place. The torchlight no longer flickered weakly against the walls; it caught every crack in the stone, every vein of quartz that glittered like buried stars. Shadows that had once pooled black and formless now held depth, soft edges.

Had she been blind to this beauty before, or had the space actually changed?

“You have True Sight now,” the woman said with a smile. “Your Innerling lives within you, activated.” She stretched her hand out. “It’s time for your first challenge.”

An old, queasy wave spread through Em’s stomach, wanting to squelch her ability to move through challenge. It tried to root itself, then faltered. She felt the absence of its weight more than its presence. She nodded and followed the woman out of the Light Chamber.

“You see that light down there?” The woman led Em to the edge of the landing, pointing to the beam of light they’d passed on their way in. Em nodded. “We’re going to step through it and transmute the darkness.”

“It’s a portal to another world?”

“Not exactly. It’s a doorway to another part of this world. All the worlds are really one, just viewed from different perspectives. It’s how you and I both exist as the same person, yet different.”

Em scrunched her face, trying to keep up.

“Don’t try to understand it with your mind,” the woman assured her. “It’s best if you come with me and see for yourself.”

They looked down as dozens of people lined up at the lightbeam doorway, stepped into it with no hesitation, their Innerling by their side.

“About that, show me your Innerling,” the woman said.

Em staggered. “Show you, as in take it out of my body?”

The woman nodded and released her own Innerling with a gentle exhale—a wolf of ash-grey, its coat fringed in deep scarlet and golden eyes that watched Em curiously.

“I don’t know how to do that,” Em replied.

“Of course you do. Show me.”

Em’s brows drew together for half a second before she forced them smooth. She rolled one shoulder in a brief, irritated shrug, then planted both feet wider. One hand lifted to her chest.

With this focus, she noticed the subtle movement inside. It felt like a piece of her that had been missing her entire life was finally home. She focused deeper and took a breath, calling the butterfly forward. With effortless motion, the wings of her companion fluttered beside her, each matching her height in inches.

“Splendid, you can call me Emerald,” the woman said, in a low, satisfied hum. “My Innerling is Amber. What will you name yours?”

Em heard the name and everything in her went quiet for one long second as the name settled like a key into a lock she’d forgotten how to open. All her life, she had been Em; the birth name her parents might have given her stayed unspoken. Yet, here standing with another version of herself, the name Emerald was finally returned to her.

“I suppose I’ll name my Innerling, Fierce.”

Emerald nodded her consent, a glint sparkling in her eyes. “Let’s go, or we’ll miss the mission.”

Em trailed her down the spiral stairs, the wooden planks humming faintly beneath their boots as they circled lower and lower around the tree’s girth. They stepped off the final tread and walked to the clearing at the center of the village, where the column of light rose steady and silent, rising from the earth as though the village itself drew breath from it.

Standing before the lightbeam doorway, the old fear stirred in Em again, but her knowing held firm. “Do we just step through?”

Emerald shook her head and climbed onto Amber’s back. “We ride.”

Em stood motionless, eyes wide, as Emerald rode into the golden beam. The light swallowed her in one smooth rush—wolf and rider vanishing together. She turned to Fierce, who waited patiently by her side. Fierce lowered to the ground, offering Em to climb on. Another warrior flew by on his stallion and disappeared into the beam.

“Okay,” Em said, with a long exhale as she clumsily fumbled onto her butterfly. Fierce helped by maneuvering her own body to hold Em. Once they both felt secure, Fierce took off into the light.

The beam took her in without friction or force. No shiver ran down her spine; no breath caught in her throat. The golden-white radiance erased every small noise and sensation until only pure awareness remained, calm and complete, needing nothing to sustain it.

One instant, she was nowhere. The next, she was here—body lurching as momentum carried her on Fierce’s back. Her vision swam; she blinked hard, and the ordinary world crashed over her.

Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting the same harsh orange pools she walked through every night, and the weight of it all pressed down again.

Her home was only a few blocks away. Sensing her disappointment, the butterfly swooped upward into the sky so Em could see the entire town. A war broke out in her own streets—houses burning, blasts shaking foundations, screams everywhere, people fleeing in waves through the smoke and debris.

She scanned the area for Emerald and saw her a short distance away at the border where the town met the forest, hidden in the shadow.

“To her,” Em said, and Fierce soared effortlessly in that direction, moving more like an eagle than a butterfly.

“You made it,” Emerald said, a smoldering darkness flickering in her eyes when they landed beside her. “I hope you’re ready for this.”

“We’re going to fight in my own town?” Em couldn’t believe she was being asked to do this. She’d just escaped this place. Now the darkness that had swallowed her world was asking her to face it.

“It’s the clearest way to show you,” Emerald replied, matter-of-factly. “Just follow me, and do what I do. You’ll learn quickest that way. And then you’ll understand.”

Emerald stepped from the shadows, her wolf trailing behind her. Em followed hesitantly, grateful to have Fierce by her side. They drew closer to the nearest struggle. The soldier’s face was flushed under his helm; he twisted the girl’s arm upward while the mother’s body arched forward, both hands locked around her daughter’s waist.

Expecting Emerald to pull her weapon, Em hung back, waiting. Instead, an impossible thing unfolded before her.

Emerald didn’t draw her blade, but instead grounded her feet and rested her hand on Amber’s back. Amber vanished in a ball of light right into Emerald, expanding outward. Emerald lifted her arms, as if welcoming an embrace, and stood, unmoving. The light continued to grow until it engulfed the soldier and the woman with her child.

What happened next stunned Em.

The soldier froze, releasing the child, then turned and walked away. He kept walking—through the fires, past his fellow soldiers—until he was out of sight. The woman and her child thanked Emerald before quickly hurrying back into their home.

Em stepped forward. “What just happened?”

“You try the next one,” Emerald replied, ignoring Em’s question. “Over there.” She pointed. Em followed, and the sight hit low and deep.

Two soldiers had a group of girls cornered in the narrow alley. The taller one pressed his probe against the oldest girl’s collarbone; sparks popped and fizzed, leaving tiny burns on her skin. His partner circled the group, probe extended like a conductor’s baton, as he jabbed it toward each face in turn. The girls shrank inward, hands raised, palms out, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Act now, Em.”

Fierce flapped her wings to confirm her readiness. Em grounded herself and summoned her butterfly within. In a flash, Fierce merged with her, light expanding in all directions around her. Em’s gaze settled on the soldiers.

A quiet warmth bloomed behind her breastbone. The air around the men thickened; their shoulders sagged as though invisible weights had settled across them. The probe in the taller soldier’s hand trembled once, then lowered. His partner blinked slowly, eyes glazing. Without a word, without hurry, both men stepped back. They turned, boots scraping stone, and walked away into the shadows, faces blank, weapons hanging limp at their sides.

“Well done,” Emerald said. “Now you’re beginning to know the truth. My blade, the weapons of other warriors, are only necessary for defense. We don’t use them to kill unless necessary.”

Other warriors spread out through the chaos, moving with practiced ease. They didn’t shout or shove. They simply stood where the violence was thickest, faces set, postures relaxed yet immovable. Fists lowered, blades slid back into sheaths, shouts faded to murmurs. Within moments, the scuffles broke apart; soldiers and townspeople alike backed off, breathing hard. The violence unraveled, the fight losing its fuel.

With the last shout silenced, they turned toward home. Em walked the well-known route, but the ground felt new under her boots. The air carried sharper scents. Her gaze lingered on details she had overlooked for years. Each step peeled away another layer of haze, leaving her vision—inner and outer—brighter, steadier.

By the time she stood on her doorstep, Fierce fluttering beside her, Em understood. Emerald and Amber held their ground quietly. Their gazes settled on Em.

“Tell me what you know, Em,” Emerald said, calm radiating from her. This gave Em the last bit of confidence to speak aloud what she’d been putting together since entering the Light Chamber with the lion-bird statue.

“Fear isn’t in control. If fear arises, face it and accept it until it leaves. Which happens very quickly when I feel the fear and act anyway.” Em thought back to her last moments before meeting Emerald. Fear ran deep in her then—fear of being killed, fear of being alone, fear of being unworthy. Then the memory of seeing Fierce for the first time arose in her mind. The courage, the strength, the hope she’d awakened in Em. “I choose how I see my world. I choose to allow the pain to take me over, or not.”

“That’s right, go on.”

“Before you came, I wanted to end it all and free myself from this body, from this life.”

A hot prickle started behind Em’s eyes. Images flickered: her bloody wrists, the way she used to hug her knees in the dark. Her breath hitched. She lifted her chin a fraction, let the first tear slip free, and didn’t wipe it away. Instead, she breathed deeper, slower, letting the memory sit beside her like an old friend she no longer needed to push away.

“I was alone. My town was being constantly raided. People were getting sick, kidnapped, and murdered. The one person I loved disappeared in the night.”

Emerald placed a hand on Em’s shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re almost there. What do you know to be true now?”

A warm buzz started at the base of her spine and raced upward.

“I have all the power I need within me. Fierce is my power, but she’s also a part of me.”

“Yes. All you have to do is honor your darkness so you can shine your light even brighter. This is the only way to create true change.”

Em nodded, slowly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her entire body shook. Emerald took her hand.

“Everyone has this light and dark in them, Em. Some will never find their light in this lifetime and will have to live through many more before remembering their power, and their Innerling. I came to you because it was your time. You were ready. The world needs you now. Not hiding away, not ending your life, but balanced in your power.”

Em stared into the woman’s dark green eyes—her eyes. This other version of her had saved her life and given it meaning again.

“You have all you need now, Em. Your light, Fierce, she will be with you, always. You’ve seen the power your light holds, the change it can make, so use it. You and I are different, but also the same. I am a Warrior of Light, and now you are too.”

Em understood. Warrior Village existed as a living mirror. For every soul on earth, it held the shape of their Warrior of Light, patient and unseen until the moment they were ready. Then the warrior came forward, stepping into the world just as Emerald had done for her.

“You hold the power to transform yourself, your life, your home, and the world, Em. It’s inside of you. I trust you will rise into this transformation.” Emerald embraced her, their Innerlings dancing around each other. The sounds of despair had left the town. All was well. “I’m going to leave now, but I’m always with you.”

Em nodded. “Thank you.”

The air shifted, and Emerald was gone. Em stood alone on her porch. Fierce had returned within her, but she could feel her gentle flutters there and knew that anytime she called, her Innerling—her light—would come.

Though time would stretch and deeper challenges loomed, she stood firm, her own light burning bright, showing others the path to kindle their own.

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